The Other Woman
by Jlynne33
Summary: Bella meets a sexy older man in a bar. They begin a relationship and she finds herself falling for him. All is well until one phone call changes everything. AH, OOC


~S. Meyer owns the Twilight Saga and the original characterizations.

I met Edward at a bar in downtown Seattle. He was there with friends, and so was I. I noticed him noticing me from a few tables away and couldn't help but blush at his blatant stare. He was clearly older, and at twenty-one, I wasn't exactly versed in the art of seduction. My girlfriends all giggled and awkwardly stared between us, urging me to make a move. I scoffed and continued to nurse my bottle of beer.

He didn't approach me until I was alone at the bar, ordering another round of drinks. He sidled up next to me and braced himself against the bar on his forearms. I looked at him, but he wasn't looking at me, so I looked over his shoulder at my girlfriends who were laughing and pointing, making a scene. I rolled my eyes before turning back to the bar, but not before I noticed his friends behaving much the same way. I snorted and shook my head, signaling once more for the bartender.

Edward had glanced sideways at me and when he saw that I caught him he had smirked down at the counter top and shook his head self deprecatingly. I quickly procured my drinks and started to move away from the bar when his hand shot out and grasped my forearm,

"Uh hey, I'm Edward," he had offered with a crooked smirk that made my cheeks flush.

I nodded uncomfortably and began to move towards my table. My friends began motioning me to turn back around and gesturing to go back. I heaved a sigh and turned around, only to find him right behind me. We crashed into each other and my beer sloshed on both of us. I groaned and felt my cheeks bloom even redder.

"Sorry…uhm I'm Bella." I said by way of introduction, though I was mortally embarrassed. He looked just as flustered as I was and nodded before asking if I wanted another beer. I tried to decline, but he wouldn't hear of it and after I was sitting at my table once more, he showed up holding another beer for me. My girlfriends were giggling and being obscenely obvious and I wanted to die. He didn't stay long for small talk before returning to his friends.

We traded glances for the next hour and secret smiles. When it was time to leave I watched in horror as my best friend Alice dropped a napkin with my number on it in front of him. He smirked at the napkin then up at me, shaking his head as his friends high fived and hooted. I made a quick exit and tried to put the gorgeous man with crazy bronze hair from my mind.

He didn't call me for two weeks, and when he did I pretended not to remember him. He asked me to dinner and I didn't question it when he took me somewhere out of town. That night was the first he stayed at my apartment.

I invited him in for a drink after dinner, and felt like an idiot when I realized I only had water or milk. He had smirked and pushed me up against the counter. When he kissed me I forgot everything. He had walked me backwards, bumping into walls in his refusal to break our kiss. He finally got me to my bedroom and barely made it to my bed without sending us both tumbling to the floor.

He immediately began working my dress over my hips and up off of my body. He gave me no time to feel self conscious as his lips immediately found purchase on my exposed skin. I tugged at his dress shirt, trying to even the score. With a groan of protest he tore himself from me and shucked his shirt before diving back onto me.

My hands were greedy in their pursuit to learn his body. He quickly disposed of my bra and inhaled a sharp breath before attaching himself to my nipple, bringing his hand to the other. My hips began to move restlessly against him. His dress pants were rubbing against my thighs in an unpleasant manner, so I fumbled to get them off. He pushed my hands out of the way and undid them without detaching himself from my breast. I finished the job by working them off his legs with my feet.

The only thing separating us was our underwear and my mind began to race with implications. I was a good girl, I didn't do this. When he felt me start to freeze up he pulled back to stare into my eyes.

"Should I stop," he questioned in a breathless voice. I stared into his shockingly green eyes and waffled only for a second. I tugged his mouth to mine and once again let my hands roam his body. He groaned and whispered, 'thank god.'

His hands tugged my underwear out of the way, the ones that I had never wore, never had a reason to wear. They were frilly and impractical, but when I saw the way his eyes darkened when he saw them, I knew they had been the right choice. His lips descended down my torso nipping and sucking along the way. When he reached my center he immediately sucked my clit into his mouth.

I jumped slightly and tried to push his face away. No one had ever done that before, and the intimate act made me beyond nervous. He pulled back slightly and stared up my body, "let me," it wasn't a question. I bit my lip and nodded slightly.

He spread my legs father and returned his mouth to me. I covered my face with my hands and tried not to focus on my awkwardness. After only a minute, my hesitation left the building and one of my hands was fisted in his hair. It wasn't long before I was panting and pushing his face away, so sensitive in the very best way from the most intense orgasm of my life.

He moved back up my body with a cocky grin on his face. I swiped my hand across his mouth before pulling it to mine and kissing him until he was a breathless as me. He asked for a condom, and I told him I was on the pill. He hesitated only for a second before he plunged straight into me. He didn't give me time to adjust and it was beyond intense as I was still clenching from the aftershocks of my orgasm.

My breath caught in my throat as he rocked into me fast and hard. He lifted one of my legs over his forearm and leaned forward to take my bottom lip between his teeth. His pace was increasing and I was amazed at the sensations coursing through my body, I thought I had had good sex before; I was kidding myself.

"Can you come again," he growled into my ear.

My breath was coming in gasps and shuddery moans, "Oh god, I unh, I think so."

He growled against the side of my neck and reached between us and began rubbing roughly against my sensitive clit. I yelped at the almost- too intense sensation. In a matter of moments he had me a quivering mess once more. Once he felt his success he lifted my other leg and began to pound into me in earnest. It took him less than a minute and he was collapsing on top of me after releasing my legs.

"Oh. My. God." I panted, not sure I could feel any of my limbs.

He lifted his head but not his body and grinned at me, "you have no idea."

I giggled and ran my hands through his hair. With a groan he rolled off of me and pulled me to his chest. We lay in silence for a few moments while I traced invisible patterns through his sparse chest hair.

We started talking about anything and everything, something we probably should have done before. Somehow I couldn't bring myself to care. I learned he was thirty-four and worked with his brothers at his father's medical practice. They were all doctors of some sort and had diversified the practice when his father had retired. The men he had been with at the bar were old college buddies that he got together with once a year.

I told him I'd never done this before, sex on the first date. He said he believed me, which relieved the insecurity I had been feeling. He frowned a little when I told him I was twenty- one but smoothed it out once he realized I noticed. I told him I was an only child and all about growing up in a small town where my dad was the sheriff.

He held me for an hour before saying he had to leave. I immediately rolled away and began rushing, saying I understood, and of course, and all the things I thought I was supposed to say. He silenced me with a kiss and assured me that he would indeed call me tomorrow. He wished he could stay, but he had an early day. I pretended to understand and tried to get dressed, intent on walking him out.

He leaned over and kissed me gently, urging me to stay in bed, that he would see me soon. He left, and I tried too fight the feeling of dread I had in my stomach. I wasn't this girl, I didn't do this.

He did call me the next day, and the day after that. He came to my door unannounced on the third day with flowers. He said he had an unexpected cancellation and had a free hour, he said he wanted to see me. I welcomed him inside and we sat on my couch, making out like teenagers until he had to return to work.

I didn't seem him again until nearly a week later when he picked me up for another dinner date. He said there was a restaurant he was dying to try, I didn't question the forty-five minute drive. The food was amazing, and the wine was even better.

By the time we returned to my apartment I was feeling floaty and free. He laughed at my silliness, and humored me when I had him twirl me around. And when he made love to me, it was soft and slow. He brushed my hair from my face and rubbed his lips against mine, just a whisper of a kiss. That was the night I fell in love. And when he left me after holding me, I knew he would call. And I wasn't worried.

During the week he would send me silly texts and occasionally would stop by when he had particularly long lunch hour. I was in my last year of school, and honestly, not having him breathing down my neck every night like my previous boyfriends was a relief.

When we did see each other it was always special and I had never felt so wanted in all my life. He made me feel sexy, when my whole life I had been the plain Jane. He brought me sexy lingerie he wanted me to wear for him and I laughed at the absurdity of it. Some nights he'd lay his head in my lap and tell me about his day while I ran my nails through his hair. He wanted to hear all about my final project for my independent writer's class.

And when his phone rang when he was coming out of the shower, I handed it to him, saying simply that 'home' was calling. I wasn't phased, thinking it was a roommate, until I saw the color drain from his face.

He turned his back to me, the first of what would be many slaps in the face that night. He spoke quietly, but not so quietly that I couldn't hear. He promised he would be home soon, that he had gotten caught up at work. Yes, he would stop and pick up toilet paper on the way home.

I pulled the sheet as far as it would go, trying to wrap myself in it. And when he said 'you too' before hanging up, I knew. I stumbled from the bed, tangled in my pristine, white sheet, I brushed past him, mumbling 'excuse me' and locked myself in the bathroom. I sank to the floor against the door, my breath coming in shallow gasps. The thoughts racing through my head made me ill and I lurched toward the toilet, dry heaves rattling my frame. I wanted to purge everything from my body, but nothing would come.

I heard Edward pounding on the door, but it seemed so far away, like I was caught in a wind tunnel. I heard him trying to speak to me, but the sobs racking my body drowned the words out. Eventually I heard the front door slam and then I was surrounded by a deafening silence.

He left. Of course he left, she was expecting him home. I had no idea who _she_ was, just as I'm sure she had no idea about me. God, how stupid can you be? He drove you out of town, only met at your house? You messed up big time, little girl.

He had never told me he loved me, but I thought he did. How could he not, when I loved him with every fiber of my being. But he didn't love me, he loved her. _You too_- it replayed in my head over and over, like a skipping record.

He sent me multiple texts the first night, ranging from grandiose apologies, to berating me for being a child and not listening to him, to declaring his love for me. I knew I loved him, but the first time he said it to me was in a text message because his ass got caught.

He sent flowers twice during the week, both times I threw them out. The sight of them making me physically ill. The thing that made me the most disgusted was the intense sense of loss I felt. A part of me, the biggest part, was still so in love with him that it hurt. Hurt so intensely and deeply that his betrayal was enough to quarantine me in my own home.

I emailed my professors and took the week off. Sleeping on the couch, because the thought of sleeping in the bed where we had made love was enough to bring me to my knees. I spent that week on the couch watching movies about other people finding love, huddled under my grandmother's afghan and surrounded only by lit candles.

He came on the seventh day. I don't know why I didn't expect it, but I was honestly floored when I opened the door and found him on my doorstep. I don't know what he expected to find, but when he saw me wrapped in the afghan, hair a tangled mess, with dark circles under my eyes his jaw snapped shut. Any words he had prepared were forgotten.

I immediately made the move to shut the door in his face, but his hand flew up to block the forward motion. His words came then, and I held my hand up, trying to ward off the pain his voice alone was inflicting. He pushed his way through the door and I retreated inside, turning my back on him.

"Bella, baby, please. You have to listen to me," his voice pleading with me as he grabbed at my hips to stop me from walking further away, "you have to hear me out. I didn't want to have to barge in like this, but you wont take my calls, and I didn't know what else to do."

I scoffed, "you didn't know what to do? You should've left me alone in the first place. You obviously have prior commitments, that have nothing to do with me."

I turned to face him, only to find him pulling at his hair and pacing away from me. "It's not what you think, it's been over for a long time."

I glared at him, willing every ounce of hate I had to outweigh the love, "What's over? At least tell me who the hell that was. Your girlfriend?"

Edward stopped pacing and stared at the floor, "my wife," he said in a barely audible voice.

I knew that there was a possibility he was married from the conversation I had overheard, but hearing it from him cut like a thousand knives. I just nodded dumbly, what else could I do?

He started forward towards me, but I held up a hand to stop his progress, "Bella, please just listen. I know how it sounds, but I promise, it isn't like that. I didn't want to feel this way, but I'm drawn to you and I can't fucking stay away. Trust me, I tried."

At that I hauled off and slapped him, "don't. You don't get to play the victim. You did this," I said with venom in my tone.

Edward raised his palms and slowly edged towards her, "I know this is my fault, but I love you Bella. I need you," he said in a pleading voice.

"You have a wife, Edward. She needs you."

Edward scoffed, "she hasn't needed me for a long fucking time, trust me."

I shook my head, "don't do this Edward. No matter who she is, or what she is, she doesn't deserve this."

"Bella, you have to believe me, it isn't as bad as it seems. We've had an empty marriage for a lot of years. I love you."

"You don't love me Edward, you love the idea of me. I'm just some stupid, naïve, little girl who believed everything you told me. God, I worshiped you. I'm in love with you, and you made me your mistress. When I think of what I am it makes me sick," I finished on a broken sob.

Edward pulled me into his arms, though I fought against it. He wrapped his arms around me, trapping mine between us. "Don't say that baby, please don't. You didn't do anything wrong. Hate me if you have to, but don't think of yourself that way," he pleaded.

"What we did is disgusting Edward, I'm disgusted with you and I'm disgusted with myself."

Edward squeezed his eyes shut, "what can I say Bella? What can I do to make this right," he questioned.

I looked into the eyes I loved so much for the first time since he entered my house. They were as haunted as mine, "you can leave me alone. She deserves better, and so do I."

He looked like I had slapped him. He dropped his arms from around me and lowered his gaze to the floor. He headed towards the door, stopping when he reached it, "it doesn't have to be like this. It doesn't have to be over," he said without turning around.

"_It_ isn't anything, Edward, it never was. Go home to your wife."

He sighed in defeat and walked out the door. I didn't receive any more texts or flowers after that. I didn't hear from him for months. If only it was that easy. I should've known it was only a matter of time, we lived in the same city after all.

It had been four months since I had seen him. I was out with Jake, we had already gone on a few casual dates. He teased me that he had been trying to get my attention for months, I pretended that he was lying. The truth was, I had no idea. I had walked around in such a fog that he could have been wearing an "I heart Bella" t-shirt and I would've had no clue. I finally agreed to go out with him, and we had been dating casually ever since.

It wasn't the same as how I had felt for Edward. I knew I could live without Jake if I had to, and that was what I liked most about him. I never, ever wanted to feel the way I felt about Edward ever again. Yeah, being in love was nice, but the pain that followed just wasn't worth it, no matter what romance novels try and tell you. The great thing about Jake was that he kept the pain at bay. He made me laugh. Such a simple thing, but something so foreign to me since Edward that it was shocking at times.

We were leaving the theater when I saw him. Jake had his arm around me and was keeping me in hysterics with impressions from the movie we had just seen. My laughter stopped so abruptly that Jake stopped walking and looked at me in confusion. My eyes were glued to the sight in front of me. Edward had his hand entwined with a statuesque woman with strawberry blond hair; she was breath taking.

He seemed to have seen me before I saw him, because he was staring at me in stunned silence as well. We were only feet apart and I could see the diamond ring and band shining on her finger in the glare of the neon lights. This was his wife. She looked up at Edward in confusion and asked him what was wrong. He shook himself from our staring contest and smiled down at her replying that nothing was wrong and tugging her along.

My eyes followed them like a train wreck, and my heart was ripped out once more when he looked over his shoulder. Why did he have to look back. His eyes held what he would never tell her, he still thought he loved me.

I had Jake drop me off immediately after that and I was at home sitting on my couch staring at the wall when I heard my phone ding with a text alert.

_Who's the kid?_

I stared at my phone in shock. After everything, after all this time, that's what he has to fucking say?

_Fuck you._ I sent it. I knew he'd be livid, but at this point I didn't give a shit. When he didn't reply for a ten minutes I grew irate.

_Can't reply? Your wife watching?_ I knew it was wrong when I sent it, I knew, but I was so infuriated by his callousness that I couldn't bring myself to care.

_He'll never make you feel the way I can_

I stared at my phone for countless minutes thinking the tears would come, but I felt nothing.

_You're right. He doesn't make me cry. _I sent it and set my phone down and went to get a glass of water to cool my burning throat.

_Let me come over. I need you._ When I read that, the tears did come. I shut my phone off and took two Tylenol PM, wanting nothing more than to find sleep and a sweet reprieve from the hell he put me through.

He didn't show up that night. And for that I was grateful. The sick, masochistic part of me was upset that he clearly didn't 'need' me enough to show up, but the sane, safe Bella wept in relief. If he had shown up I would've let him in. If I let him in I would've forgiven him. Love makes you make some really stupid decisions.

I knew he was my first love, but I wish he wasn't. Love wasn't supposed to feel like this. I've spent more hours crying over him than I spent loving him. I hoped there would be a day when thought of him and didn't feel sick. I hoped I could eventually think of him and not hate myself, hate him for turning me into something I hated, the other woman.

AN: Just an idea I had bouncing around. Sorry if it makes you sad for B&E not to have a HEA! Please send me reviews, I love them! Xoxo-Jenna


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